


Dirty Work

by InsufferableKnowItAl



Category: Real Person Fiction, The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Student/Teacher, Desire, Desk Sex, Dirty Talk, Dirty Thoughts, Dom Negan (Walking Dead), Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Grades, Help, Implied Sexual Content, Lust, Negan (Walking Dead) Swears, Older Man/Younger Woman, Penis In Vagina Sex, Rough Sex, Sex, Sexual Content, Sexual Tension, Sexy, Sexy Negan (Walking Dead), Smut, Teacher Negan (Walking Dead), Teacher-Student Relationship, Top Jeffrey Dean Morgan, Underage Sex, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-22
Updated: 2018-06-22
Packaged: 2019-05-26 17:06:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15005432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InsufferableKnowItAl/pseuds/InsufferableKnowItAl
Summary: Teacher Jeffrey Dean Morgan x Student ReaderYou receive a bad grade on your paper in Mr. Morgan's History class.





	Dirty Work

Always a straight "A" student, that was your reputation at school. You did as you were told, never caused trouble and always respected your elders.

That is, until one day in your favorite History class, you get an " _F_ " on your report on the Byzantine Empire.

This has always been your favorite class. Mr. Morgan was an amazing teacher, History was your favorite subject and Mr. Morgan was good looking too if you may say so. Sexy seemed only to be the brink of describing him. You've even developed an infatuated crush on him that you've shared with no one.

When you wrote this report, you couldnt help but feel proud of it, you couldnt wait to turn it in to that little drop box on the edge of his desk. You just knew he'd be very impressed, but you were wrong.

As Ashlyn, the girl who always sat at the front of the class passed back everyones papers, your hands and heart jittered with excitement for her to reach yours.

But once she placed yours in front of you, your eyes widened with horror at the big fat red " _F_ " in the top right corner. Double checking it was your paper and no mistake, you sat there in disbelief. How did this happen? You made sure you cited your work, everything was perfect, so what was wrong? You've never had a bad grade before in all of your life!

Sitting there until the bell rang, instead of making your way out of class, you walk right up to Mr. Morgan's desk. Clearing your throat, you grip your paper tightly in your hand until he looks up at you with that dark hooded look you grew to fall in love with.

"(Y/N), how can I help you?" You give him a nervous smile and hand him the paper.

"I was just wanting to bring this to your attention, as I think theres been some kind of mistake." You say. He takes the paper from you hands amd looks it over. Taking his time as he scanned the pages, he handed it back to you and shook his head.

"There's no mistake." He says, looking at you with dark eyes. "Now if you'll excuse me..." he says as he stands up from behind his desk and walks out the door. You stand there, befuddled. How was this possible? Slowly placing the paper in your bag, you slowly make your way out of the classroom. Kids were beginning to file in and brush past you.

You pass Mr. Morgan and look at him. He was staring at you intently. You were confused. What was wrong?

Deciding to swallow it all down, you brush it off and go to your next class...

All day it has been bothering you. No matter how hard you try to not think of it, it still bothers you. How did you get a bad grade?

Finally making up your mind, you decide to go and see him, to try and talk to him about it at the end of class.

Once the bell rang for the last class of your day, all of the students rushed to there lockers to grab there stuff and leave. You took your time, as you didn't want to be caught in the middle of it all. And you knew Mr. Morgan didn't leave till almost five o'clock anyway.

You knew this because every Thursday after school, you had volleyball meets in the old gymnasium down the road from the school. And you having such a crush on him, knew which vehicle he drove. It was a black Chevy Malibu with tinted black windows. Your heart flutters at the thought of what could happen behind those tinted black windows.

Shaking your head at the thought, as it was so inappropriate and wrong of you to even think of things like that with a teacher, you grab your bags and head to his classroom. By this time not many students lingered in the halls.

Once you made it to the classroom, you see that he was talking to another student. And you knew the kid. His name was Daryl and he was in your fifth hour class. Deciding to wait, you walk over to a vacant desk and set your stuff upon it. You happen to notice that Mr. Morgan glanced at you and quickly adverted his eyes back to Darren.

Then, walking Daryl to the door, he bid him a good day and then turned towards you. Sighing as he stood in the middle of the door frame, he ran a hand through his salt-and-pepper colored hair. God he looked so sexy in it, and he was still young!

"(Y/N), what do you want this time?" He asked, looking at you once more with that hooded-look. A small shiver ran up your spine but you quickly shook it off.

"Well Mr. Morgan, its about my paper. . ." you say, your voice trailing off as your back is turned while you dig in your bag for the paper. You don't hear the classroom door close as you continue to look for your paper. Or how he moved closer to you, as you finally found it and held it in your hand.

Turning quickly. you jump as he scares you. You didn't know he was so close to you. You backed into the desk accidentally and blush deeply.

"Whoops, heh, sorry." You stammer out. He looks down at you with a smirk. His eyes trail along your body until it stops at the paper in your hand.

"Ah, I see its about the paper, again." He answers, reaching for it. By now you felt as if you lost all ability to speak and move. He touches your hand lightly and grabs the paper. Stepping away from you as he looked over your paper once more, he started walking towards his desk.

You let out a deep breath you hadn't realized you had been holding. That was very close. Tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, you scoot closer to where he was standing. His back was to you, but you made sure to keep a nice proximity between the two of you.

He didn't say anything for awhile as you stood there, watching him. He was built and fit, lean and tall. God he was perfect. There were countless of times where when you were supposed to be paying attention, you drifted off into a fantasy. Your diary was filled with dreams you've had of him in them, ones where he touched your skin and you felt on fire. Where the desire was so intense it felt as if it could kill you. Of course, no one knew this stuff. You were this angelic student in school that every just assumed never sinned. Well your mind has been through the dirt and back with the man in front of you, and you don't even know how you survived in his classes.

You hadn't realized that he was now facing you, looking at you peculiarly as you zoned out in thought of him.

"Oh, sorry." You say, blushing deeply. He chuckled lightly, but it was deep, baritone; something that made your ears want to melt. It was so masculine, so. . . sexy. You wonder what it would sound like closer to your ear. . .

"Well, (Y/N). What do you want me to say?" He said, gesturing to the paper.

"I want you to tell me you made a mistake, or at least tell me where I went wrong so I can fix it!" You said, suddenly getting to the point. "Look, I've never ever received a bad grade before-"

"Never?" He asked, stopping you. You shook your head.

"Never. Now, I don't want this to ruin my reputation, I'm already riding on a four-point-o GPA and I really don't want to screw that up. Please?" You nearly beg. He smirked as he stepped closer to you. There was no where for you to run to now, you wanted to stand firm on this. You needed to redo it, you just had to!

"Your reputation in this school will not be ruined. . ." He said in a low voice. His hand came out and caressed your cheek. Your eyes closed, savoring in his touch, it was so soft, so . . . gentle. Opening your eyes slowly, you sigh shakily.

"I need you to allow me to fix it, please." You say modestly.

"Who's to say bad grades won't come in the future. Just because it's your last fucking year, doesn't mean your safe." He says, dropping his hand from your face and stepping back. Your eyes widen at the sudden change in how he spoke; never ever had you heard him speak like that, but you found it to be so fitting, and it instantly turned you on.

"But my last year counts. Every year does." You answer, feeling your face flush red.

"Why does it matter to you so bad? There's got to be more to it than your goddamned reputation." He said, his eyes glinting. You bite back the fear as you answer.

"Because I don't want to disappoint you!" You yell. "Do you know how hard it is to impress teachers like you!?" You say with so much fervor. He quirks his eyebrow. His hand traces over his jawline that was stubbled with those salt-and-pepper hairs you found to be enticing.

"What do you mean teachers like me?" Stepping towards you, your back hits his desk.

"Look, it doesn't matter. Can you tell me what I did wrong so I can fix it?"

"I'm not accepting fuckin' rewrites, now tell me, what do you mean?" He says, tossing your paper to the floor and trapping you with his hands on either side of the desk.

"Please, I will do anything. . ." You say in almost a whisper. He was so close to you, it was unbearable.

"Anything?" He asks, allowing his eyes to trail down your chest, then back up. You bite your lip, was this a dream? Oh my god please let it not be a dream! You nearly scream to yourself on the inside. Nodding your head slowly, he smirks deviously.

Leaning into you, slowly, his lips brush against yours. The smell of his cologne was delicious. Your eyes closing at they touch, you kiss him slowly. You knew this was wrong, but it has been what you wanted for so long. His scent was so masculine; it was like old-spice and pine. And the way his slight beard electrified the feeling of the kiss had you on edge!

His tongue comes out and sweeps along your bottom lip, asking for entrance, and you allow it. This may have been your first kiss, but you knew just enough to make it not terrible. His hands were now on your hips as you wrapped your arms around his neck, it was so forbidden but you needed him.

You grappled for the buttons on his shirt, untucking it from his pants as he bit at your bottom lip.

"That'a girl." He said as he kissed you along your jawline. His hands roamed under your shirt along your ribs, making you shiver at the delight. Once his shirt was unbuttoned, he discarded it to the floor. You pulled back and adored his body, he wasn't flexed fit, but he was good enough. It was what you thought he was. Tatoo's adjourned his upper arms as you trailed your hands up them; they were so large.

You quickly remove your shirt and throw it down. He smiled at your mint green bra. Tossing his reading glasses to the side, he grabbed your hips and pulled you closer to him. You could feel the heat of his anticipation in his pants as you both kissed each other breathlessly. He was slowly easing you back onto the desk, when you stopped him.

"Wait!" He whisper shout. He pulled back and frowned. "The door?" You say. He just smirks at you.

"I've already had it taken care of, sweetheart." He purrs huskily, kissing your collarbone. You smile.

"Oh your so naughty. . ." You say breathlessly, your eyes closing as you relished in the feeling of his lips on your body. You can feel him crack a smile against your skin.

"You have no idea how long I've been fuckin' waiting for this to happen." Your hands rake through his hair as he pulls the straps of your bra down. Unclasping it from the back, he drops it to the floor as he pushes you back onto the desk. Standing between your legs, he runs his hands up your body and over your breasts. Your nipples were already perked and hard at his touch.

Allowing his tongue to come out and trail a path up your stomach, between your breasts, he captures a nipple between his teeth and sucks on it, making you moan with pleasure.

"Oh god. . ." You say out loud. He lets it go with a loud wet pop and then does the same to the other one. Your legs wrap around his waist as he does so. You can feel yourself growing wetter and wetter by the second. "Please, there's too many layers. . ." You whimper as his hand plays with your breast, massaging it. He pulls away and smirks. You sit up and begin undoing the belt of his jeans. Pulling it from the loops, you pull his pants from his hips to reveal his tented boxers. While you were removing his belt, he kicked off his shoes and now discarded his pants.

You moan at the sight of him. Reaching out your hand, you grasp him lightly. You weren't afraid or nervous, this had happened so many times in your head, it was nothing new. Now, getting off of the desk, you begin to undo your jeans, quickly slipping them off. As soon as your pants are tossed aside, his hands are all over you, relishing it the softness of your skin.

Pushing you against the desk, he bends you over it. He grabs your hair and you gasp. Tracing his hand down your back, he slowly pulls your panties down. They matched your bra, cool mint, all lace. His hands roam over your ass making you hiss at the contact. You wanted him so badly.

He finally pulls his boxers down to reveal his throbbing large appendage. You wanted to cry at the sight of it! It was so big, you knew it was going to feel so good going in. He spreads your legs as you grip the desk. His long member in hand, he rubs it against your sopping wet entrance. He groans at the feel of you, turning you on even more. Just him teasing you like this was enough to make go over the edge. But you wanted more.

Slowly, he pressed the tip of it inside of you. You bite back a whimper as he begins to slide in more. You were so wet, it was the perfect lubrication.

"Oh fuck! Jeffrey!" You cry out, your knuckles turning white from gripping the desk so hard. You were a virgin, you were aware it was going to hurt, and you were finally touched by man-kind. Breaking you walls, stretching you so far, you knew it was going to hurt to walk later, he was finally deep within you. You needn't worry about getting pregnant either, as you were aware your mother slipped a birth control pill in your orange juice every morning.

"Your so tight." He growls deeply. Your eyes are shut tight as so many different emotions coursed through you. You felt pain, you felt pleasure, and you felt a hunger that was burning your insides.

Slowly, he begins to move, thrusting in and out of you in a rhythmic way. The desk is shaking beneath you as he thrusts harder and harder, plunging into your hot wet core. You moan out in pleasure as he grips you harder, rolling his hips in a skilled way, hitting every spot inside of you you never knew could make you quiver like so.

His hands entwine themselves into your hair, yanking you back to him until your back was flush against his chest. You could feel the hammering of his heart as you both gasped with each and every touch and thrust. He stretched your walls so far and wide, now there was no pain, only pleasure.

You crane your neck around and capture his lips with yours in a searing kiss. Your hand wraps around his neck as he thrusts up into you harder. "Ah!" You whimper out, revelling in all of him. Quickly pulling out of you, he turns you around and picks you up. Placing you on the desk, he pushes you back and spreads your legs even more. Once more he shoved his hard, growing length into you.

Your skin was on fire, he felt so good inside of you. You could feel your walls quake and tighten around his lovely length, loving the friction of the feeling.

"How. . . bad. . . do you. . . want. . . ugh, that grade?" He asks you through clenched teeth as he thrusts so hard into you, there's nothing but the sound of a creaking desk and skin slapping against skin.

"Very bad!" You cry out, knocking his stapler and cup of pens over. You heard him let out a deep chuckle as he ravishes you.

Then, beginning to feel yourself build up into a cramping sensation, you notice he begins to thrust harder but slowly. Wrapping your legs around his hips, you pull him to you closer. Crying out, you burst like a white hot searing firework and completely loose all senses. He follows closely behind you, cumming inside of you with his hot sticky seed. Slumping against the desk, on you, you both hold each other and stay like that for some time. Sticky bodies against sticky bodies.

Once he removes himself from you, you both begin dressing and fixing the desk and any kind of mess you both made. Not a single word was said between the two of you. Once you were fully dressed, you grab for yours bags off of the desk you left them on. He was bent over his desk writing something down. You feel awkward, so you start walking away and head towards the door.

"Wait." You hear him gruffly call over his shoulder. Stopping, you turn towards him. He walks over to you, his eyes trained down on the paper in his hands. He stops in front of you and hands it to you. You look down at it, it's your essay, with a little note on it that read :

_I was going to give you a D for doing D work, but you earned yourself an A._

Also included was his number. You look up at him and blush deeply. "Thank you." You say. He runs his hand through his hair and smirks.

"Damn, I hope to see you again." He says, honestly. You smile and step towards him. Looping your fingers through his pant belt loops, you pull him to you.

"Oh trust me, you will." Reaching up and kissing him on the lips, you slip the note into your pocket and open the door. Walking out, you smile to yourself. This was an amazing, eventful day.

 

**THE END**


End file.
